


Selfies

by ephemeralflowers (tachycardias)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexting, this is my first time attempting to write something in english and this happens, what the fuck is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-02 19:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18817249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tachycardias/pseuds/ephemeralflowers
Summary: When Alfred sends a rather revealing photo of himself to Arthur, things start to get more intense than they have been for the past 100 years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to dedicate this fanfic to my wonderful hetalia friends, I'm so glad I've met you all, you have no idea <3
> 
> Anyway, this is my first actual fanfic in English (since it is not my first language) so, please don't be really harsh on me, thank you! If you have any suggestions for improvement though, don't hesitate to comment.

Alfred tries to prevent himself from collapsing on the ground, his hair is a complete mess and his glasses are dirty, preventing him from seeing clearly. He should have prevented this, United States of America does not get drunk, he is not England.

“I’m hot” America sulks into his shot glass before Denmark reaches over and tips it against his mouth for him, getting it all over his chin.

“Hot damn,man” the other nation chuckles while he takes the bottle from his hands and places it on the nearby table,” You’re so hot America, why aren’t we having sex right now?” it’s completely obvious that Mathias says that jokingly since he falls back on the bed laughing and Alfred sends him a glare, yet his lips form into a small smirk.  


He starts laughing because damn Denmark can be freaking hilarious when he wants to, and he’s also a really nice friend, they do have similar personalities after all. But Alfred could never see him that way.

“Dude relax, I’m not going to say no homo, you know me and Norway have been together for a while now, I say that to him” Mathias grins and with a wink he takes a small sip of his glass of Tequila, still looking sober.

Alfred tries to pull a face this time, but his laugh betrays him nevertheless. He is glad Denmark is there with him, and not someone else. Besides the fact that he never trusted his drunk self America didn’t want some other country to take advantage of the situation, blackmailing was pretty customary among the nations.

“Dude” he hears Mathias say, he has that weird smile on his face once again. That expression had only brought him trouble but at the same time, Alfred was indeed feeling rather adventurous. Denmark grabs the bottle and hands it to him again, his voice is muffled when he talks, the alcohol must have started kicking in,” I have an idea but you need to take another shot” 

_Oh damn, it’s one of these ideas._

-

“In your dreams frog!” Arthur slams the door of his hotel room, he had been in Paris for the last week and he had already tried to convince himself, several times, that this was not a horrible nightmare.The constant flirting and the numerous French traditions he had to face had been driving him completely insane.

He collapses on his bed with a groan, not even wasting time to remove his clothes and get comfortable. This man was going to be the death of him! The flirting never stopped and in the meantime, he also had to face all the preposterous French politicians.

His eyes are beginning to close and his breath becomes steady, his brain has already decided that it’s time for him to sleep and England is not complaining. Suddenly his phone buzzes, the pop-up on the screen reads ‘America’ and even though Arthur knows if it were something important, Alfred wouldn’t use his personal cell to text him about it, his body reacts to it anyway, bracing for the newest childish message he was going to face. His pulse picks up a little when he swipes across the screen and opens the message.  


Then his pulse picks up a lot more.

Arthur blinks, his throat suddenly gone parch-dry. It’s...a picture message. A picture of Alfred. Standing in front of a floor length mirror, obviously drunk judging by the way his hair is sticking out everywhere and his eyes are red-ringed, his cheeks and chest a comical shade of bright pink. It’s a full body shot and there is a lot of body. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of America themed boxer-briefs and even then he’s got his thumb hooked into one side, pulling them down just far enough that Arthur’s theory that Alfred is the type of guy who manscapes is proven completely accurate.

“What the fuck”, England mutters, scrolling down, then back up, trying to make sense where there obviously is none.Just.What the fuck. He glances down at the tent in his pants and swallows thickly. His feelings for America had surely changed through the years, he had never made them easily perceived but they had been uncovered by a few other nations. Well, his cock’s not wrong. But before he rucks his pants down to jerk off hard and come way, way too fast, he texts back.


	2. Chapter 2

America wakes up with a headache large enough he’s pretty sure he is actually dying. He instantly goes for the bottle of water and aspirin Mattias had left right next to his bed - because he is an actual fucking god and he will tell him that and worship him for it properly later when he doesn’t feel like puking every time he inhales.

He swallows the pills then curls back into himself on the bed; lying there until the ceiling stops doing that spinning thing and the bed doesn’t feel like a rollercoaster anymore. America reaches for his phone on the nightstand to text Denmark a thank you and ask him how he’s doing, oh god he had a meeting with the other Nordics today, he truly is his best friend -- when he notices the little blue led flashing, notifying him he has a new text. He figures it’s just from Mathias, checking in to make sure he isn't suffering that much from his own hangover, but when he punches his passcode in, the pop-up says it’s from Arthur. 

Alfred is surprised. It’s been nearly a month since he talked to England last, so he’s pretty curious to see what it’s about. Until he taps on the message and it opens up and Alfred dies inside.

_Thank you for that America, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t meant for me. This was Denmark’s idea, wasn’t it?_

Alfred stares at the screen in complete, stomach-churning horror. Above Arthur’s comment, and right below his last message sent a month ago, asking him about some political event they were going to attend.

He is going to kill Mathias Kohler, best buddies or not.

-

“Well, I didn’t tell you to send it to him!” Denmark says, exasperated. “What the hell Alfred! I didn’t know you were so drunk you needed me to hit send for you.”

“Send I hit just fine, apparently,” Alfred groans into his hands. The worst part is he doesn’t even remember doing any of this. “Picking the right number to send it to, not so much.” But then a thought almost more horrifying than Arthur getting a stupid drunk selfie of him crosses his mind. What if he had clicked the right contact, the one he’d meant it to go to. “Oh god. That could have gone to-.”

“That was the plan.” 

He freezes and turns around facing Mathias, his lips form into a frown and he feels angrier than before. Alfred never had time for dating, he is a busy nation with many responsibilities and he really prefers hanging out with his friends rather than dating random humans, these relationships never worked after all. The most interesting part though is the fact that all his past exes are pretty similar to England.

America always fell for every British, grumpy man he met, maybe it was just the beautiful accent that drove him absolutely insane but of course, that wasn’t the only reason and he knew it very well. 

“Why do I ever listen to you? Do you have any idea how humiliating that would have been? I told him I was over him. I am over him. I was just having a rough night and oh my god, you are officially the worst bro ever.”

“So what you’re saying,” Mathias says as their order arrives at the table, two enormous cheeseburgers of course. “Is you’re glad you sent it to Arthur”, he smirks knowingly and hands him a fork even If he already knows Alfred is not going to take it.

“What? What is wrong with you? Neither of these outcomes are ideal! I mean, maybe, because I’d definitely rather have Arthur mock me than _him_ get it and think I was trying to win him back or something, which I'm not.”

“I think you should ask him out.”

Alfred pulls at his hair. “Are you even listening to me? I’m over him. Totally, one hundred percent over. It was just--” he takes a bite of his burger and a soft moan escapes his lips, McDonald’s never failed to satisfy his needs.

“Not him,dude,” Denmark throws a fry at his face with a chuckle. “Arthur.”

Alfred stares at him in utter shock. “Have you lost your mind?”

Denmark shrugs, “I don’t know man,Norge drives me completely insane but-”

“He hates me.”

“He thanked you for a dick pic.”

Colour rushes into Alfred’s cheeks, he hadn’t expected Mathias to be so bold with these things. He looks around, feeling rather embarrassed, hoping that no-one has actually heard their peculiar conversation.“It wasn’t a,” he lowers his voice. “dick pic.”

Denmark shrugs again. “Close enough. Besides, he sounded kind of disappointed, I think. That it wasn’t for him.”

“What? How do you even come to these conclusions? Your brain is a scary, terrible place dude. Terrible place.” he would try to hide his flushed face behind that large burger but Alfred has already consumed it all. Like a true American.

“Whatever min venn, eat your hangover food and think about what you’ve done.”

Alfred hates him a little.

-

He spends most of the day staring at the empty reply box on his phone. He should say something. Probably. Should he? Should he apologize for probably visually scarring Arthur and explain that he was very, very drunk and that yes, Mathias is the actual worst human being on the planet or should he just, you know, do the manly thing and try to pretend like it never happened and that he’ll never have to look England in the face ever again? Ultimately, since the latter seems pretty impossible in their line of “work”, he eventually works up the nerve and around ten hits the send button, rolling face first into the mattress, praying it swallows him whole.

_Sorry. Yes, it was Denmark’s idea. Denmark’s and Tequila’s. Please delete it. Or burn your phone dude. And your eyeballs. Whatever works. Sorry._

About fifteen minutes later his phone chirps and Alfred feels a cold sweat break out across his forehead, braces himself for what he expects will be a humiliating and cold reply.

What he doesn’t expect is to receive a picture of Arthur, taken exactly the way Alfred took his. Except Arthur is in green boxer-briefs, not red and blue, and he’s a lot thinner than Alfred in all of the places, and America pinches and zooms on his chest before he really realizes what he’s doing. England is looking at the camera with a bored expression but at the same time, it’s the sexiest look he has ever seen. It looks like Arthur had just returned from home, his tie is undone and his shirt is open, leaving nothing to the imagination. America doesn’t notice the note attached to the photo until much later, after one toe-curling, mind-blowing orgasm.

_Now we’re even._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is probably a little too ooc for some of you but let's be real, he will never be entirely over that pirate phase amIright? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @kirklandarthurs if you ever want to scream about usuk ;)


End file.
